


Mind The Gaps

by RecallThePet



Series: Dungeons and Daggers [3]
Category: Dungeons & Dragons (Roleplaying Game)
Genre: Abandoned Work - Unfinished and Discontinued, Chapters are individually tagged, Diary/Journal, Other, no beta we die like men, read with caution, this is much darker than my other works
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-06-26
Updated: 2020-06-26
Packaged: 2021-03-04 01:09:13
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 392
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24935065
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/RecallThePet/pseuds/RecallThePet
Summary: The pages of Zylas's Journal that he has torn out, thrown away, burnt, melted, or otherwise disposed of.(These works are much darker and much more personal than any of the other ones I have written.They deal with issues like PTSD, paranoid thoughts, unreality, and much more.If you feel that you will be unable to handle such topics, or that the discussion of such things may be triggering, please do not read this fic.None of what is contained within is important to the main story, so it can be easily skipped over.)
Series: Dungeons and Daggers [3]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1670731
Kudos: 2





	Mind The Gaps

**Author's Note:**

> Trigger warning for the following: restraints, abuse by authority figures, gags, and ptsd induced nightmares and hallucinations.

I hate nightmares.

Most people do but these are… different, somehow. I know calling them nightmares and then saying they’re not nightmares doesn’t make much sense but I don’t know any other names for them.

Four years is a long time to be chained up. It would have negative effects on anyone, sure but… I can still  _ feel _ it. I can feel the chains as I wake up. I hear the guard’s voices and… I feel  _ them  _ too. Their hands on me. A boot on my back, on my ribs. Hands wrenching my head back, a voice screaming  _ “Open your eyes, Elf!” _ jolting me from sleep as violently as it had when it was first heard… I still feel them dragging me out by my arms. Throwing me to the floor. 

I couldn’t even stand up. I couldn’t fight back. All I could do was put my hands over my face and curl up and pray to whatever gods might’ve been listening that they didn’t kill me this time. They tied a cloth over my mouth. I never knew why. Maybe someone important was nearby and they had to keep up the facade of civility for their unseen visitor, just off in the other room. Or maybe they were just sick of my yelping… They didn’t take it off me when they dumped me back in my cell and I couldn’t even  _ breathe _ without wanting to cry, let alone try to take that wretched gag off. It stayed on for… I don’t know how long, frankly. 

I still reach to take it off when I wake up. There’s nothing there, I  _ know _ there isn’t! But I still grab at my face. I still start to panic. I still feel the pleading bubbling up in my chest, along with that horrible urge to just curl up and wait for the beating to be over. It doesn’t stop until my senses return fully and I can tell that all I’m touching is the skin of my face, and not uncaring fabric.

I don’t think anyone has noticed. Or if they did it’s not something they care to bring up. I know my shirt rode up while I slept. I just hope they don’t see the jagged lines or punctures. I know I won’t be able to stand their questions, even if they mean well… 

**Author's Note:**

> This one is based off of dreams I had after I was released from a week long hospital stint about two years ago. I was on a respirator for a few days and for weeks after my release I would wake up clawing at my nose and mouth to get the oxygen mask off, despite the fact that there was nothing on my face. 
> 
> Oh yeah, did I mention that these are personal? Because they are.


End file.
